


Pinching Moments

by LeilaAngelica



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Ashe is a tsundere, Especially in the Second Chapter, Everyone is a dork, Fluff, It went overboard, Jesse’s cheeks are super duper pinchable and you can’t change my mind, M/M, She’s gonna be the next overwatch hero, There some angst, There’s the lady from the train hopper comic, This is mostly about the cowboy, This was a head canon I had:, You go to kill it and suddenly it’s gone, but it’s like the spider in your room, references, technically, tooth rooting fluff, you can’t change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:22:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilaAngelica/pseuds/LeilaAngelica
Summary: Jesse McCree has a lot a memorable moments.Yet most of those involve abusing his cheeks.





	1. Chapter 1

"But- _Moooooooooooooom!_ "

A little Jesse McCree could be heard, whining and complaining about going to his late uncle’s wedding. He didn’t want to go and see people smooching and being gross, like every other wedding he has been to, which was a surprisingly large number.

"No _buts!_ " His mother said, kneeling down beside him. She looked breathtaking in Jesse’s big brown eyes, wearing a deep blue dress-though it was rather simplistic-, her blonde hair tied into a bun and her emerald green eyes were surrounded by blue sparkling eyeshadow. She was missing her lucky hat though, which made her seem incomplete. "We are goin’ to see uncle Joseph’s wedding and your gonna be _happy_ about it!" She continued to drawl, with a seemingly strict tone that didn’t quite reach her smile.

"Well- I don’t wanna go and see him marryin’ that pig!" He whined. His mother covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her laughter, before looking around. "We don’t want to say that out loud sweetie, papa might hear you and get upset." 

Jesse huffed. "But it’s _true!_ Bet if we place that lady next to the pig’s pen, we might think she’s one of ‘em!" She burst into laughter, laughing sweet and genuine- and loud, before reaching over to pinch his cheeks; it took real guts not to shout from how hard she pinched.

"Look at ya," She murmured, removing her hands after giving those cheeks a pat. "Such a handsome man in that suit, bet you gonna steal all those gals at the party!" The little man in the suit pouted. "I don’t wanna be a handsome man- _I wanna be a cowboy!_ " 

His mother smiled once more, before reaching behind her, and pulling her lucky hat out of thin air, like those magicians he watched on television. His eyes widened, letting out a _"whoa”._ She placed it on his head, chuckling as it covered his eyes, it was a bit big after all.

"You get to wear my lucky hat, only if you come with me to the wedding." 

Jesse nodded frantically, fixing the hat on his head.

"Deal!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed, disasters happened, and graves were filled in with dirt.

Just like any other dramatic teenager, he ran away.

Away from that sight that still taunted him. 

_In his dreams._

_While he was awake._

The picture of utter failure was permanently etched in his mind.

_You failed her._

_You failed her._

_You failed her._

The thought would repeat itself, like an old record player, forced to play the same song.

_Over and over._

The next thing he knew, he was in the Deadlock gang, robbing bank after bank, reaching the top of the wanted list.

It was the only “family” he had, but it was obvious that the gang- besides the leader-only valued his skills with that old revolver. 

A seventeen-year-old Jesse McCree sat near the poker table of the ‘so-called base’ (which was just a fancy mansion), talking the leader of the pack.

Ashe was what they would call her; he highly doubted that’s her real name, but he really couldn’t be bothered to ask for clarification. She had created this gang sometime ago, claiming she wanted a family too. Her idea of family was way different than his.

"-and so I walk up to the police guy and I tell him: ‘It’s high noon’ before I shoot his brains out!" The story was a complete lie, but it entertained her, and that’s all that mattered. She burst into wheezing laughter, getting a hold of herself on his shoulder. 

She was too close for comfort, but Jesse couldn’t say anything, unless he wanted her big robot butler to punch him square in the face.

"My goodness," She drawled, clutching her side. "You actually said that that?" 

He shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much." He lied.

She let out a giggle before leaning close, closer than she had been.

He started panicking.

_Why was she leaning in?_

_**Why was she leaning in?** _

Her eyes were closed, her plump lips were slightly parted, and she was very close.

 _Is she gonna kiss me?!_ He thought, trying to squirm away as much as possible.

Thankfully, Ashe came to her senses, snapping her eyes open and leaning away from him to her original position, cheeks burning from embarrassment and frustration. She chuckled nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her hair.

Then, she grabbed at his cheek and yanked hard.

 _"How dare you try to kiss me!”_ She shouted, still pinching his cheek with a death grip, before releasing it, standing up and stomping away with a reformed fury- and a red face.

As Ashe walked away, Jesse rubbed his abused cheek, wincing at the sting that was left behind.

Perhaps he shouldn’t tell Ashe that she wasn’t his type.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few years later, Jesse McCree had been caught.

The Deadlock gang planned a heist- per usual- in a tiny bank. It just a simple cash grab, nothing too big.

Until they were thwarted by the one and only: Overwatch, aka that wild band of superheroes with a theme song that gets stuck inside your head.

It happened quickly- too quickly, Jesse might add.

One minute he was robbing the bank of their goods.

The next minute he was here, in a dark, small room, the only light source being a boring looking white lamp. He jerked his head up the moment he heard the door open, seeing the same man that captured him.

"Hey kid," The man- Gabriel Reyes , If he recalled correctly- called out to him, gently closing the door behind him. He approached the Deadlock associate cautiously, like approaching a frightened, cornered animal, before plopping himself in a chair across from Jesse.

"Ya here to play bad cop?" Jesse barked out, eyes narrowing to a glare.

The older man smiled, unfazed.

"Probably,"

"Y’all should forget reasoning with me -See what I did to the other guy?”

Gabriel chuckled, as if it were the funniest thing he’s heard all day. He did see that the ingrate had done to his partner, Jack Morrison. Little Jackie was cursing and stomping around all day like the white man he was.

"What’s so funny?"

"You remind me of myself when I was a kid."

Jesse quirked an eyebrow, visibly confused.

"Yeah," There was a faraway look in his eyes when he said that, like he was reminiscing.

"I used to be a naughty kid like you, robbing shops and all that- before I was caught by this very same organization and thrown into this very same room."

Jesse sat there quietly, silently urging him to continue.

"A guy like me came in, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week-" He paused to huff a little laugh.

"Anyway, he came in, sat in front of me and just stared at me, for like an hour."

"’Listen kid,’ he told me. ‘You know this, you’ll be getting a one way ticket to the slammer. You’re life will be over before it even started. You’re a good shot, I’ll admit that, kinda wished you had the brains to go with it. So, instead of pointing that little gun of yours for the benefit of yourself, why don’t you start doin’ it for the benefit of those people? Those people deprived from the war. Those people with no hope. Make them believe that you are more than a no good crook, that you’re something greater.’"

"I asked why he even cared, only for him to say he just got _twenty dollars_ for riding on me—“ Gabe burst into a fit of laughter, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Gabe shifted in his chair, clearing his throat from all the laughter. “ Like he said, have you ever considered wielding that six-shooter for the greater good rather than robbing banks of their cash? If so, we got a nice spot in overwatch waiting for ya."

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately silenced as the man held up his hand.

"You don’t have to give an answer right away," Gabe leaned forward to pinch Jesse’s cheek lightly, before giving it three pats and letting it go. "Go get something to eat first, you look like you haven’t ate in a week." He lead the young cowboy out the door. 

"Ask for a woman named Ana, I’m sure she’ll fix you a nice meal."

Jesse nodded, turning away from Gabriel.

He looked over his shoulder to thank the man, eyes suddenly widening.

He was gone.

 _"Thank you."_ He whispered anyway, before walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jesse McCree accepted the offer, and joined Overwatch.

He began to realize that having people that actually cared about his wellbeing wasn’t so bad.

He had his father figure Gabriel Reyes, his mother figure being the one and only Ana Amari. 

He had a little sister named Fareeha, daughter of Ana.

He had an aunt named Angela Ziegler, and two grandpas- Torbjörn Lindholm and Reinhardt Wilhelm.

And there was a new addition coming to Overwatch.

"Genji Shimada-" Jesse read aloud, walking through the various hallways of Watchpoint, the heels of his boots clicking on the metal floor.

From what he overheard, the guy had a serious fight with his older brother- probably over an Xbox or something- and he got really messed up, they had to replace his broken and bleeding limbs with hunks of metal.

Poor guy, Jesse thought. It must be hard to be a cyborg, with all that machinery in the place of your flesh and blood.

Jesse’s hands balled up into fists. If he ever saw that guy, he’ll be sure to give him a good beating- and perhaps a couple shots from his Peacekeeper.

 _"Oh! Jesse!"_ The voice calling his name snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned only to see Angela and what it appears to be an edgy teen with his left tit out. "Howdy Angela! Who’s this fella with you?"

Angela smiled at the cowboy. "This here is Genji," She gestured to the half-man. "He recently joined us and will be assisting us in uncover operations, he is a ninja after all." She continued, spouting out already known knowledge. 

"Dr. Ziegler! You are needed at emergency room three!" A fellow agent interrupted the conversation, sounding sharp and urgent.

"I will be right there! Okay Jesse-Genji, I’ll be back in just a moment- be nice to each other while I’m gone." With that being said, she hastily sped off, leaving the two to share an awkward moment of silence. Jesse cleared his throat before giving the cyborg a toothy grin.

"Howdy, name’s Jesse McCree, it’s a pleasure to meet you," Jesse tipped his hat, before extending an arm towards the ninja, who instead grabbed at his cheek with a death grip, tugging him towards the cyborg until their noses barely touched.

"Enough of your cowboy drawl. If we are to work together, that so be it- but let me make this clear: I am not your friend, Jesse McCree. Unless it is privy to the task at hand I am not interested to know anything about you, and if you think for one moment- blah-blah-blah-“

Jesse was basically lost in what the cyborg saying, trying his absolute best to stifle a yawn forcing it way up his throat.

_"You got that!"_

It seemed like Genji finished his rambling.

"Y-yeah!" Jesse instantly replied, like a liar.

"Good." Genji released his hurting cheek and turned his back to Jesse, before walking away.

Jesse rubbed his bruised cheek, eyebrows furrowing.

"Um- okay."

_Seems like someone was going through their emo phase._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple years after, Overwatch fell apart, it’s pieces scattered across the globe.

Even greater disasters happened.

Even more graves were filled in with dirt.

Everyone he knew and cared about was either dead or fled the scene, like Jesse McCree himself.

_Now, he was on the run._

His pricey bounty on his hatted head came back, and bounty hunter, bank robbers and heck, even Talon was after it.

"Here you are ma’am." Jesse called out to a frail old woman who was probably in her early 80s, holding out a Victorian-like hat. That reminded him, there was this whole fiasco on the train to Santa Fe. Talon decided to attack the defenseless train, Jesse thwarted them and possibly gave them a nuclear weapon that could destroy the entire world, and the feds think he did it.

_Typical._

At the moment, he was trying to flee from the train station before the police could have the chance to find him. But he got distracted at getting a hat that had flown off with the wind for a little old lady.

"Thank you sweetheart!" The woman thanked as the cowboy placed the hat on her head.

The woman reached to grab both of his cheeks with both of her hands, pulling and squeezing them with her fragile hands. Jesse did his best to smile, even with his cheeks being abused.

"Such a handsome young man, and a gentle one at that," She chuckled, releasing her hold from his cheeks to adjust her hat.

"I _have to thank you in some way-_ " 

Jesse waved her off in a friendly manner.

"That’s unnecessary ma’am. I’m just doing what I can."

"Oh hush, I must repay you somehow- uhm-" She sounded deadly serious about the whole repaying thing while she searched her expensive- looking purse.

"Er- um- okay." Jesse stood patiently, eyes shifting for any signs of the police.

"I don’t have much- will candy be alright?" She reached in her purse, grabbing several candies wrapped in shiny gold foil, looking pretty ancient.

"These are the finest caramel candies, imported from France! Isn’t that wonderful?"

The old woman practically thrusted the candies into the cowboy’s hands without a second thought.

"Er-Thank you." Jesse gave a easygoing smile, one that the old lady returned.

"Now, I believe it is best that you get going. After all, aren’t you being chased by the police at the moment?"

Jesse’s eyes immediately scanned the crowds, catching glimpses of people in blue uniforms.

"Ya, could you keep this little secret?" Jesse winked.

The woman smiled, not unkind.

"Of course- wouldn’t tell a soul.” She winked back.

He waved a quick farewell, before pushing through the crowds, jumping the railroad tracks and running out of the feds line of sight.

That night, the cowboy ate all of the candies in a single sitting.

They were just too good, even if they were old looking.

_They quickly became his favorite._


	2. Chapter 2

It was a calm morning.

The sun rose like a flower just blooming, gifting its mellow blues and pinks to the world. Gold rays chased away the remaining stars, illuminating each crevice of Watchpoint. Trees wore golden crowns, and waves of the vast sea raced to greet the horizon. 

_Truly a breathtaking moment._

If only Jesse McCree was awake to see it.

The cowboy still slept in his shared room, chest heaving at an even pace, and snoring louder than necessary.

Rays of sunshine seeped through the window, painting his cowboy themed room in a soft golden glow. The rays grew closer, before tickling Jesse’s sun kissed face. 

He groaned, flipping himself over on one side. Yet the rays still followed, shining brightly, as if they grew impatient.

He nodded to himself, pushing away the covers.

"Alright, alright," Jesse murmured to the sun, before yawning and sitting upright. "I’m awake." 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he turned to his love. "Angel, its time to wa-" He stopped himself, realizing that his husband was no longer sleeping at his side. The only evidence that he was sleeping with him at all was the crumpled pillow and a blanket that was pushed aside.

 _Of course,_ Jesse thought.

Hanzo was an early bird who got the worm, whether it was raining, shining, or the end of the world. Even if the world ended, he would probably rise from the dead.

And Jesse was the sleepy, lazy bird that got... pancakes, with a couple of worms, and some maple syrup.

He stretched his human arm over his head, hearing satisfactory pops, before reaching over to his metal limb on his drawer, idle and untouched since last night.

Once it had been placed on sung and tight, the cowboy threw legs over to the side of the bed, wincing as he felt the ice cold titanium floor touch his left foot.

 _Yes,_ he was a man who slept with one sock on, specifically his right sock.

Hanzo had called him a madman the first time he saw the man with only a cactus pattern sock, shaking with mirth. Jesse had explained that it was to maintain a constant body temperature, so he didn’t have to sacrifice his legs to the demons under the bed. The explanation only caused his husband to laugh even harder.

The cowboy chuckled to himself at the not-so distant memory, searching under the covers to retrieve his other sock. He found it eventually, before slipping it on and walking towards the tiny half-bathroom of their room.

While lazily brushing his teeth, Jesse could hear the seagulls outside chirp in glee, for today was a new day.

Another day to spend walking on this worn and torn earth with his cactus patterned socks. 

His eyes traced along the cracks on the mirror.

On a bad day, especially while he had been on the run, Jesse would flop onto the nearest alley floor, face covered with his human and metal hand alike, muttering for all the pain to end, for everything to just go away; as if he were simply a child, just realizing that everything had to end sooner or later.

_On a bad day._

But today was not like one of those days, if it meant he could spend it with his love.

His eyes stopped at a picture on the mirror.

It was him, Hanzo, and a couple of others in the background. The memory of that picture played like an old movie. It was the first New Year the cowboy spent with the reformed team, and it was the first time he made Hanzo smile. His fingers unconsciously wandered to touch the photo, tracing Hanzo’s beautiful smile. It still made his knees weak just _thinking_ about it. He forgot what he did or said, but he could never forget how he smiled. How he laughed; broad shoulders shaking with amusement, letting out music to his ear. How he looked at him afterwards; eyes crinkling just right, smile growing wider. 

It was at that moment, he realized he was in love.

He blinked twice before spitting out his toothpaste.

_He was getting sentimental, like Reinhardt after many beers._

Jesse couldn’t really tell if that was a bad thing.

After washing up, He marched over to the door, slipping on his favorite horse slippers(which Hanzo got for him as a joke, he didn’t expect the cowboy to actually like them) and his lucky hat before opening the door. 

He allowed his prehistoric instincts to guide him through the various halls, eventually leading himself to the mess hall, right before the kitchen. Jesse sniffed the air before walking in, questioning the burnt smell.

 _"Yeethaw!"_ Hana was the first to greet him, who was on top of the couch, pointing finger guns at the cowboy. "Stick ‘em up!"

Jesse chuckled and raised his arms, face morphing into an expression of mock-surprise.

"Please- don’t shoot me ma’am- I’ve got a husband and a _feathery child!_ "

The gamer stuck her tongue, shooting him anyway. Jesse stumbled back, clutching his chest, and making the most obnoxious dying sounds anyone could ever hear.

"Uhh-ohh-I’ve been hit! Oh- the pain! The agony!” He hit a table. "Tell... my husband.... that _I loved him-!_ " He slumped on the table, tongue sticking out.

"Also, you said it wrong," He resurrected from the dead to say.

"Aren’t you supposed to be dead?- _Oh, Hey Lú-_ dead people can’t talk." Lúcio entered the scene, quirking an eyebrow. "Hey Hana," He greeted before facing a supposedly dead McCree.

_"Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong, Eastwood!"_

_"Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong, frog legs!"_ He tipped his hat, which surprisingly was still atop of his head, before addressing the gamer. "Sorry hon, got resurrected as a zombie, now I crave for your brain."

Hana shrieked. "My brain! _Oh no!"_ She rushed to hide behind her DJ friend. 

"On second thought," The cowboy scratched his chin, supposedly thinking. "I don’t think I want it anymore, with all that junk food you eat, I think I might get diabetes."

Hana stuck her tongue out once more. "I’m so unhealthy-You’ll get _type one and type two diabetes!_ Ha!" Lúcio looked absolutely confused, unsure whether that was a good thing or not.

Once again, Jesse caught a whiff of that burnt smell, spiking his curiosity.

A rubble in his tummy made it clear that it spiked his hunger as well.

"Alright, catch you guys later, I have an appetite to satisfy." With that being said, he turned the other way and continued his way to the kitchen, leaving the two to do whatever nerds did.

As he continued his journey, the smell appeared to get stronger. He opened the door to the kitchen, smiling at the sight. His archer was at the stove, back facing him, fanning smoke and muttering Japanese words that Jesse could partially understand. George, who sat on the floor, eating his grapes with joy, chirped in glee at the sight of the cowboy, before standing up and waddling to his owner.

 _"Mornin’ George! Mornin’ Angel.”_ He greeted, patting the goose’s head. Hanzo turned to his husband, a smile forming on his plush lips.

"You look like a drunken man."

"And you smell like a fire hazard," Jesse retaliated, marching over and wrapping his arms around the archer’s thin waist, resting his head on the shorter man’s shoulder, before looking out of the kitchen’s only window, admiring the vast blue sea he saw before him.

_"Mornin’ cruel world."_

He caught site of pancake mix on the counter before staring at the disaster on the stove, observing the utter remains of a horribly black pancake. He bit his lower lip to keep himself from laughing at the sight. Instead, he kissed his husband’s temple.

"Don’t you mean goodbye?" Hanzo asked, before returning the gesture.

"I meant good morning," Jesse admitted, as if it were a secret he kept from the world. "This world may be cruel, but I’m still kickin’.” 

Hanzo let out a soft chuckle, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"What’s so funny?" Jesse quirked an eyebrow at his husband’s reaction, cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"I didn’t think someone as foolish and naive as you, could say something as inspirational."

Jesse gave him a wide, toothy grin. "And I didn’t think someone as skillful as you could mess up a perfectly simple pancake this _bad._ " 

It was Hanzo’s turn to get flustered, cheeks reddening until the cowboy couldn’t tell the difference between a tomato and the archer. Hanzo wiggled out of Jesse’s grasp, letting out a frustrated huff.

" _It’s not my fault I can’t cook!_ After all, I had thousands of servants to prepare meals."

It was true, as a spoiled little prince, he’d watch servant after servant head into the kitchen and come out with a plate full of Japanese delicacies without him taking part. He didn’t even know how to start an oven without the help of anyone.

Don’t get him started on how he tried to survive all those years outside the clan.

"C’mon, _look at it!_ The pancake looks like it went through hell and back!" Jesse poked at the pancake, watching it turn into ash.

"You’ve invented the next nuclear weapon, and Kim Jong-un is coming to your location."

Hanzo glared at his husband. _"Are you done?”_

"One more angel,” He tried to get the final joke to come out, but he kept laughing. "Chernobyl called, they want their n-nuclear radiation back!" Jesse wheezed, clutching his sides as he giggled. "Ow, _my ribs-_ Okay, okay, now I’m done.”

Hanzo let out a huff, before reaching over to the cowboy and placing a hand on his cheek, stilling Jesse. He expected his husband to pinch and wreck havoc on his cheek. 

He was surprised to feel the pad of his thumb gently caress it instead. 

_It felt nice._

Better than having it slapped, pinched or bombed.

Unconsciously, the cowboy melted into the touch, as if he were a cat, seeking for affection.

The archer smirked as he retracted the hand. "Very well," He said, crossing his arms once more. "If you are the master chef, I challenge you to do them."

Jesse placed his metal hand on his hip, secretly missing the hand on his cheek.

"Don’t think I don’t know what’re tryin’ to pull. You’re usin’ that reverse psychology or something on me," He raised a fist into the air. "Since I’m not one to back from a challenge, I’m gonna make the best pancakes you’ll ever eat!"

The archer nodded. "If I’m not satisfied, _you’ll have to rub the my feet for an entire week!_ "

Jesse smiled. "Deal." They shook on it, Hanzo releasing his hand to scoop up the fluffy goose, who honked in excitement.

"We will be waiting." With that being said, Hanzo walked out of the kitchen, leaving Jesse behind.

The cowboy continued to stare at the closed kitchen door, edges of his lips curled into a smile.

He touched the side of his face, where his husband’s hand had been.

_Today was a good day indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see! Decided to do something based of a headcanon of mine: Jesse’s cheeks are super pinchable.  
> So I decided to do that 5+1 thing. Five times in which his cheeks were abused and the one time they weren’t.


End file.
